


Five Times Nami Surana was frustrated that she didn't have all the information, and one time she didn’t care.

by dimircharmer



Series: Something more than they were [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: 5+1, Blood, Character Study, Dragon Fight, Established Relationship, F/F, Families of Choice, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Violence, all origins are true, codependant mage girlfriends navigate life outside the circle the fic, two dragon fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4057987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimircharmer/pseuds/dimircharmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the circle, people and events alike were steadfast, regular and predictable. Nami Surana depended on that. Outside the circle, real life proves very frustrating.</p><p>An all origins are true fic focusing on Nami Surana and her relationship with Keira Amell, as they attempt to navigate life outside the circle and stop a blight. Good thing they have help. A standalone oneshot in the Something More Than They Were verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Nami Surana was frustrated that she didn't have all the information, and one time she didn’t care.

**Author's Note:**

> While this is technically second in a series, it's a stand-alone story. For the first instalment of Something More Than They Were, see the end of this work.

Five Times Nami Surana was frustrated she didn't have all the information, and one time she didn’t care.

**1.**

                There were certain constants about life in the circle that anyone who lived within it understood to be true. Apprentices graduated to become mages to become enchanters. Mentors looked after their charges. Templars looked over them all. Even understanding the rhythms of something as seemingly inconsequential as when the kitchen supplies arrived (the end of every week, on a barge initially used for carting logs) could be important to improving your life here; fresh food lasted longer hidden away and always the day after delivery always promised better meals. Nami Surana understood these rhythms, knew how the circle tower worked and how it operated, relied on knowing she could predict how the circle and those within it would act and react. This is why she noticed, before Jowan, probably before most of the enchanters, that the first enchanter had no intention of putting Jowan through his Harrowing. He was the oldest apprentice by nearly a year and a half now that apprentice Keira Amell had become mage Keira Amell the night before, and it was becoming obvious that even Jowan knew that something was wrong.

                That he had come to the two of _them_ for help was the first surprise about the situation. His involvement with Sister Lily had been the second, but one Nami probably should have predicted. He had been skipping classes with regularity, twice a week on the hours that she now realized were the ones immediately following Lily’s commitment at the tower chapel. So. Unexpected, but not altogether shocking. Jowan had, over the years, proven to be a very good friend to both her and Kiera, and if there was one thing that you could rely on in the circle, it was people calling in their debts. That this was a favour that Nami was happy to perform was a bonus. True friends were few and precious in the circle; most bonds and relationships were held together by complex webs of debts, favours and gifts, even between those who truly did like one another. Her relationship with Jowan was no different. Even Kiera who was friendly and to everyone who crossed her path did so at least partly as a way to accrue favours. As far as Nami knew, her and Kiera’s bond was one of only four or five entirely unconditional relationships within the entire tower, although perhaps she should add Jowan and Lily to that list now.

                So, favour for favour, she found herself acquiring a rod of fire which Kiera had charmed out of old enchanter Sweeny in exchange for making life difficult for a Templar later, and all four of them made their way downstairs to the phylactery storage. Kiera and Jowan were looking through the labels on the bottles quickly, rifling through them trying to find Jowan’s before anyone noticed they were missing. Lily, to her credit, was staying out of the way while they looked, and Nami was watching the door. Not that she was expecting anyone to notice they were missing; Kiera had just passed her harrowing the night before and most of the residents in the tower probably thought that she had snuck off with Nami to celebrate in a storage closet somewhere. It had been two long, stressful, horribly separated weeks between their harrowings, and they were both deeply relieved at being able to talk to one another without careful monitoring again.

                Kiera’s victorious whoop interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to see her holding Jowan’s phylactery aloft in one hand. She handed it to Jowan, and laughed as he smashed it with great ceremony on the floor of the cellar. Jowan turned to embrace Lily, and Nami was struck suddenly with the sudden urge to reduce every vial in the cellar to splinters of glass, to run upstairs and urge the younger apprentices to leave _leave now they can’t track you go_ \- and then Kiera slipped her hand into Nami’s hand and smiled at her, a little bittersweet, as if she knew what Nami had been thinking. Their phylacteries were both in Denerim now, or enroute to, where they would reside in the capital city of a country she would only ever know three and a half square miles of.

                Jowan and Lily would see more of it, she told herself, watching them embrace in the dusty cellar. They had plans to head to south to a Honeleath, a small farming community, and pass through there to find a village south of the wilds to settle in. Nami hoped that Jowan remembered to let his land lie fallow; she had read about it once and didn’t imagine it was a very intuitive to anyone who had not lived on a farm their whole life. Kiera bumped her side gently with her own.

                “They’ll be fine” she said. Nami dipped her head in agreement.

                “I know. I’m just worried about them.” she said apologetically

                “I know. C’mon though, we still have to see these two safely outside. Wave em goodbye as they venture off to start their new lives and all that.” Kiera said. “I don’t even have any handkerchiefs to wave, more’s the pity.”

                With that, Jowan and Lily began to make their way up the stairs, and Kiera tugged Nami along behind them.

                “Afterwards we’ll have to claim ignorance of the whole thing though, so get ready for that.” She adopted a faux-innocent voice, and widened her eyes “Gosh, who escaped? Jowan? Really? I don’t know anything about that. I was too busy having celebration sex with this beautiful elf beside me here, didn’t hear a thing, I’m so sorry.”

                Nami elbowed her in the side, grinning and Kiera laughed, before returning the gesture good-naturedly and sighing.

                “I’m going to miss him” she said “The tower’s going to be different with him gone.”

                “Someone else is going to have to take over grinding Sinclair’s herbs” Nami agreed. “And now no one’s going to be able to blame him for leaving books all over the library anymore.”

                Kiera ‘hmm’d her agreement, and the two of them stopped as Jowan reached the top of the stairs and threw the doors open to the main hallway. They made it nearly five steps out of the doorway when they were interrupted. A pair of Templars clanked down the stairs in fifty pounds of plate armor, accompanying both the first enchanter and the knight-commander.

                “Oh _piss_ ” Kiera whispered beside her. Nami couldn’t help but agree with her assessment of the situation.

                Greagoir started flinging accusations at the lot of them, and Nami gripped Kiera’s fingers so tight she was sure she was making them both white knuckled. It was not, however, until the two other Templars made a move towards Lily that Jowan truly surprised her.

                From the back of his robes, he drew a _knife_  (the same one that had been missing from the kitchen for months, Nami realized hysterically, that the head cook had torn the pantry apart looking for) and plunged it into his hand. She had a split second to think about what a ridiculous source of blood that was before a wave of magic rolled over them, fever hot and _powerful_. It nearly knocked _h_ _er_  over, and she wasn’t even the intended target. The blood magic surged from Jowan’s wound, sending the three Templars and the seventy three year old first enchanter hurtling halfway across the entrance hall. Jowan himself, after a brief attempt to convince Lily to come with him, simply bolted out the front door, trailing blood as he went. He had barely made it out the doors when the Templars started to rise, and dread settled cold and hard in Nami’s stomach.

                Her mind was still reeling.  _Blood magic!_ Nami had never believed Jowan capable of such a thing, would never have helped him if she had known. Kiera was saying as much to the knight commander, but it was clear that even Kiera’s attempts at making excuses wouldn’t get them out of this one. Blood magic, _maker,_  her and Kiera would likely be executed for helping Jowan (A Maleficar, her mind helpfully added) escape. She felt sick. In her wildest speculations, she never would have guessed that _Jowan_ , of all people would turn to blood magic. Still, as Greagoir had Lily dragged away and began to pace towards them, she and stepped forward to put herself between him and Kiera. Death or Aenor, he wasn’t sending Kiera anywhere Nami wouldn’t follow.

                “Knight-commander, if I may” The visiting grey warden said from the stairs. Nami wondered how long he had been watching this. “I _am_ recruiting for the grey wardens as well as the army. Both of these mages were spoken highly of by the enchanters of the circle. I would see them join the warden ranks.”

                “If they would have us, we will go” Nami said quickly, “We would be honoured.”

                Duncan raised one eyebrow. “Does your companion not have opinions of her own on this?”

                “Where she goes, I go” Kiera said from Nami’s side. Nami nodded.

                “Normally” Duncan began “The wardens do not take more than one mage at a time from any one circle. But a blight is upon us. I would not pass up two willing and able recruits in a time of crisis.” He nodded at the knight commander and the first enchanter. “It is settled, then. Come, collect your things” He said, turning back to Nami and Kiera “You are wardens, now.”

                No matter what awaited them outside the circle, Nami thought, squeezing Kiera’s fingers, at least she could face it knowing that she and Kiera could face it together.

**2.**

 

               The Korcari wilds were unlike anything Nami had ever seen before. She had read books, of course, but they were quickly proving to be a pale imitation of reality. She was learning that most of what she _had_  seen before in the circle didn’t seem to be vastly applicable outside it, regardless of whether she learned them in a book or in interacting with other people. Some things, however, still worked. Favour for favour, tit for tat seemed to apply everywhere, but there were too many _people_ , too much to remember for her to keep track of all the debts and favours and aliences. She had taken to keeping a book (a flimsy 80 page leather-wrapped notebook of the kind she had once used for lecture notes) to keep track of the whos and whats and wheres and how manys. Her shorthand was cramped, nigh illegible to anyone else, but at least it kept things organized, and everything important she had learned was written down. Key places, bits of information on the factions, short profiles on their travelling companions, when she could get them to answer questions at all.

                Another difference to the circle: people here _didn’t like her asking questions_. They often rebuffed even Kiera’s attempts to get to know them, or would refuse information that Nami believed was completely benign, simply for not _wanting_  to tell them. It was a far cry from the circle, which for all the politics and factionalism and boredom was primarily a place of learning; no one would ever refuse information purely out of _spite_. Of all the groups at Ostagar, the Grey Wardens seemed to be keeping the most secrets of all.

                Both the other recruits as well as the older officials were keeping secrets from her, and it was infuriating. Nami was so used to the circle, spending time with the same people year in and year out that it was difficult to predict how new people would act and react, and being faced with such a huge number of them all at once was overwhelming. Hence the notebook. She had a page for each of the other recruits –most of them only barely filled- and another for each of the other prominent figures in the camp. She was adding to it constantly, as her companions revealed more about themselves in conversation or action, and kept notes on any outstanding favours or potential valuable rumours. That’s why she was so frustrated that the page she was keeping on the grey wardens (an order she was part of!) read simply:

-Fights the blight, immune to darkspawn taint

-Holds power of conscription above crown and chantry

-Head of order in Weishaupt fortress, Anderfels.

                She looked over her barren entry on the wardens and frowned. Kiera was seated beside her on a bench just to one side of the main camp at Ostagar, picking at the bindings on her staff. Nami sighed and shut her book, leaving her quill in it to mark her place.

                “Are they ready for us yet?” Nami asked. Kiera shrugged, and let her staff fall to rest on her knees.

                “Nope. Duncan and the tall one, the Templar. A something? Al-“

                “Alistair” Nami supplied (Alistair no-last-name-given, twenty years old, former Templar in training and recent warden. Tall, wore heavy plate armour, used a shield and sword. Also; distrusts mages, prone to bad jokes, eats enough for three.)

                “Right him” Kiera agreed. “Duncan and Alistair are still messing with the darkspawn blood we brought back from the wilds. Duncan said he’d call us all when they were ready to do whatever it is that we’re about to do.”

                “Wish we knew more about it” Nami said bitterly.

                “Me too” Kiera agreed “But at least whatever this is, we're not alone like the rest of the recruits.”

                Later that night, after the joining and still shaking from the effects, Nami added to her book.

-grey warden blight immunity achieved by ingesting modified darkspawn blood

-ingesting darkspawn blood potentially deadly (7/9 considered uncommonly good survival rate)

                She also scratched out Jory and Daveth’s entries in the book so hard the pressure from her hand nearly tore a hole in the page.

                Later that month, after a collective nightmare and still picking darkspawn bits out of her hair, she adds again.

-joining permanently connects wardens to Archdemon, other darkspawn

-joining causes permanent increase in stamina, metabolism. Effects on magic, mana regeneration yet unknown.

-joining does not provide immunity to blight sickness, merely delayed onset; approx. timeframe 30 yrs

                Nearly a year after their joining, in a tent halfway to Denerim and accompanied by four armies, she adds to the entry on wardens for the final time.

-Sacrifice of a warden required to permanently kill archdeamon.

                And then, in the only editorializing comment in the entire book, and one of the only prayers she had ever made sincerely, added in a shaking hand,

- _Maker help us all_.

 

**3:**

                “So it’s a hundred copper pieces to a silver”

                “Right”

                “And a hundred _silver_  pieces to a sovereign”

                “Yep”

                “And a drink is about two copper pieces?”

                “Watered down nug’s piss ale like I drink? Sure. Real ale will be more around four or five. Good wine or spirits is even more than that.”

                “How much would a meal be?”

                “Depends on the tavern, depends on the meal. Bowl of slop is usually only a couple of copper, you want meat it’s gonna get closer to five or ten, meat that won’t have you hunched over your chamberpot later is gonna be even more than that.”

                Nami stared down at the small pile of copper and silver pieces in front of them.

                “So we can’t stay in the tavern tonight”

                “We _absolutely_  can’t stay in the tavern tonight.” Farra Brosca agreed. “We’re lucky be able to resupply up and not be eating boot leather on the way to the next town as is, and this is _after_  we did all the running around for the Chantry for some extra coin. Lothering’s not exactly bleeding supplies and spare beds anyhow.”

                Nami hummed in agreement, and looked at the town around them. Lothering was, she once read, a quiet peaceful farming village of about one hundred souls. Now, refugees had swelled the numbers to almost triple that, opportunists attacked people on the road and darkspawn were threatening to take the town within the week, and Nami _still_  didn’t understand how money worked.

                “How much did you make in a day, in Orzammar?”

                “In a day? Fuck, I was lucky to get work three times a week, even after the Carta knew about me. A Day’s work got me a silver or so, if I was lucky, and most of _that_  went right back to the Carta to ensure that nothing unfortunate happened to my house. Good jobs, long jobs’ll netcha more than that, but that’s hazard pay mostly. Best job I ever did, coin wise, netted me fifteen silver and this breastplate” she said, knocking the hardened leather with her knuckles “Took a month, and damn nearly two of my fingers. Worth it, though. Never coulda afforded the damn thing otherwise, and lemme tell you, a duster with her own armour gets a hellofalot more work opportunities than one without.”

                “How much would it have cost normally?”

                “Breastplate like this? Thirty eight, forty silver? Something like that, anyhow.”

                Nami stared at her in shock “Is armor really that expensive?”

                “Shit no. No. way, _way_ more!” She was clearly enjoying the look of shock on Nami’s face as she continued “Void, I’d wager the princeling's sword _alone_ is worth more than all my armour put together, plus half my supplies besides. Dunno how different surface prices are. It’d cost more for you tall blighters to get yourselves outfitted, probably, but damned if I how much more.”

                Farra Brosca cupped her hand around the coppers, and scooped the small pile of coins back into the pouch that contained the collective funds of the Ferelden grey wardens.

                “They really don’t teach you this shit? How’d you manage to get by and _not_ learn how much a loaf of bread costs?”

                Nami shrugged self-consciously. “No reason for me to. Never left the circle, and inside they gave us food, clothes, supplies. No merchant ever came to the tower. Even if there was a way to _get_  money in the circle, or anything to spend it on, we weren’t allowed to have any anyway”

                “No shit? Why’s that”

                “Discourage escapes, I always thought. Never made sense as a rule to me, otherwise. Not like there was anything to buy.”

                “Huh.” Farra said, pulling the drawstrings on the pouch closed “You know, that would be impressive, if it wasn’t so fucking awful. You two mages can’t function out here at all. If I met you back home I would’ve cheated you outta every coin in your pocket."She shot a slightly rueful look up at Nami "You two look like easy marks, no offense.”

                “No, that’s fair” Nami agreed “that’s why I’ve been asking you about this.”

                Farra looked pleased “Well, if you’re gonna ask someone about this, I’m glad it was me. Better me than the prince, or that lordling Cousland. Neither of them have dealt real with money before, you can tell.”

                “Real money?”

                “Yeah. Frigging nobility. No idea how far a pair of coppers’ll getcha if you’re careful. You wanna ask somebody about this, you ask me or, whasherface,’ Farra snapped her fingers, trying to jog her memory “A something, the less weird elf. The one Alistair was making eyes at earlier today. She looked like she was gonna faint when the Chantry handed her a full sovereign for doing it's clean up.”

                “Adenine” Nami added. (Adenine Tabris, 21, as far as she could tell, recruited from Denerim’s alienage covered in blood, cagey about the events that led her to being recruited covered in blood. About an inch and a half shorter than Nami, wore plate armour and a shield that was too heavy for Nami to even lift. Falling into a leadership role by virtue of no one else wanting to make decisions. Found Alistair’s jokes funny, for some reason.)

                “Yeah her” Farra continued, pleased, “Ask me or her about money shit. Don’t ask the nobles about it, for piss’s sake. They can’t think on real people levels about shit like this, used to thinking in dozens of sovereigns. Me and Adenine though? We grew up poor. I can see it on her. I bet she’s used to squeezing her coppers so tight the king sings. Girl after my own heart, that way. And then the Dalish don’t really trade with humans, right? I doubt swamp witches do brisk business either. So that rules out Ghilharel and Morrigan.” She nodded, satisfied. “Me or Adenine.”

                “You or Adenine.” She agreed.

                “That’s settled then.” Farra bounced the coin purse in her hand, before tucking it into her leathers. “Oh hey,” she said, turning her face up to meet Nami’s eye, raising one hand to shield her eyes from the sun “Now that you’ve got that all sorted, could you return the favour? Alistair told be earlier that sometimes rain freezes and falls down as ice, and I’m only pretty sure he was fucking with me.”

                “No, that’s real. It’s called hail, we get it a couple of times a year in the fall, mostly, but once every few years in the summer too. The ice pieces are about this big” Nami held up one hand, fingers pinched together to give an indication of the size. Farra stared at her.

                “You know what” she said at last “I’ve decided that weather is bullshit. Fuck, Orzammar’s a pit and it can rot, but at least we didn’t have to deal with _water_ and _ice_ falling _out of the sky_ on us. Weather my fucking ass.”

                Nami bit her lip to prevent herself from laughing as Farra continued to grumble. There was a lot of life that she and Kiera had missed, being in the circle, and she had a lot to catch up on, but knowing that there were other people she could count on, to ask questions and make decisions, helped immensely. She couldn’t, simply _couldn’t_  keep track of everything outside the circle, but she could keep track of what she thought was important and let the others handle what she didn’t manage. It was an oddly comforting thought, actually, that there would be others that helped shoulder this burden with no expectation that she do anything but the same when they needed it. It was still overwhelming, yes, but she and Kiera were no longer alone against the circle, instead it was eight wardens, an apostate and a dog against the world. Nami wasn’t sure if those odds were better or worse, but she decided that she liked the benefits of the new ones far above the old.

 

**4:**

                “YOU COULD HAVE JUST SAID, GHILHAREL” Roared Adenine Tabris, over the horrifying screeching of a dragon “YOU COULD HAVE JUST SAID WE WERE OUT HERE TO KILL MORIGAN’S MOM, WE WOULD HAVE COME!”

                Flemeth, the dragon in question, roared back. Nami had a split second to mourn the fact that she had left her fireproof boots at camp in favour of her more comfortable hiking boots before the fight was upon them. Just twelve or thirteen seconds ago, Ghilharel and Flemeth, THE witch of the wilds, had been exchanging weird riddles before Ghilharel visibly gave up and shot an arrow at her. Flemeth simply laughed, retreated up a hill and proceeded to sprout wings and a snout and rain fire on the lot of them. Nami supposed this explained a great deal about Morrigan.

                Flemeth-the-dragon roared again, cutting off whatever Adenine was about to say as she was forced to pull her shield up to block a gout of flame. The sheer heat of it melted the Redcliff coat of arms right off the metal, revealing the plain redsteel under the paint. As Flemeth pulled back, Adenine ducked underneath the dragon’s head to emerge between its two right legs, turning to gouge her sword deep into the hind leg as she passed.

                “NAMI, KIERA!” She shouted. They turned towards her.

                “I need paralysis glyphs on that thing’s legs. If it gets airborne we’re all fucked. Don’t be stupid and play hero. You’re our healers and we need you conscious, keep your blighted distance! Go!”

                Nami turned to Kiera, nodded at her, and they split up to get on either side of it. Nami tucked herself behind a tree slightly downhill of the dragon, casting a glyph under it's front claw and then hexing the thing for good measure. Charging up the hill towards the dragon from the front were Erik Cousland and Farra Brosca, four blades drawn between them. They dove to either side as Flemeth spat fire at them down the path, singeing hair and leather as it went. Farra went for the same side Nami was on, and she was treated to a view of the dwarf digging both daggers into the top of a scale on the dragon’s foreleg, bracing one foot against it and _heaving_. The scale came skittering loose, revealing a tiny window of tendon and bone beneath.

                Flemeth’s back legs were truly thrashing now, scrabbling to find purchase in the rock, but the paralysis glyphs were holding for now, keeping the dragon pinned to the earth by its front two legs. Adenine Tabris was keeping its attention at the front, swinging her sword alternately at the dragon’s muzzle and neck, screaming for the archers below to _aim for its sodding wings already_.

                Nami’s could feel her grip on its leg weakening; glyphs like that were never meant to be kept up indefinitely, but as she moved up to shout a warning about the imminent freedom of the front leg, the dragon’s _tail_ came up from her blindside and hit her solidly across the chest. The impact knocked her halfway down the hill without touching the ground, at which point the world became a blur of brambles rocks and bushes as she careened down the slope in a barely controlled roll. The momentum of the tumble took her into a tree which met her shoulder with a sharp _crack_ , her head snapping after it shortly.

                It had been a long time, (four years nearly to the day) since she had last had to cast without a staff, and the lack of practice was clear to her as she ineptly tried to heal her dislocated shoulder one handed. Nami got up slowly, one hand still pulsing healing into what she was reasonably sure was a broken collar bone in _addition_ to a shoulder wrenched out of socket as she began running back up the hill. She crested the hill just in time for Kiera to yell a warning as her paralysis glyph gave out, and the dragon leapt into the air with a roar. The sheer force of the wind nearly knocked her over, but it was clear that the archers had been doing their jobs.

                As it stretched its wings to the sky, the sun shone through the translucent skin, and shafts of light came right through holes in the membrane left by arrows and crossbow bolts. Though the wind was immense, the dragon didn’t even clear the tops of the pines before it wobbled, tipped and careened sideways into an ancient trunk, breaking both the tree and probably a few of its ribs.

                The dragon got up at the foot of the tree, hissing in outrage. One of its proud spiked wings was dragging in the dirt, and it was avoiding putting any pressure on the foreleg that Farra had been slashing at. They were, against all odds, winning this fight. Nami shot an incredulous look at Kiera, who returned it with a bloody grin, and whooped as turned to run towards the dragon. She whipped her staff around her head as she went, its circles pulling wind and frost from the empty air, whipping around her and pulling her hair from its braid. She swung her staff forwards one more time, skidding to her knees with momentum and sent the blizzard ahead of her downhill to consume their foe. Nami retrieved her staff from where it lay in the bushes, and sent a less impressive series of hexes towards the beast.

                The dragon swung its head back and forth, trying to escape the cold or shake off the disorientation Nami had inflicted she was unsure, but it didn’t notice Erik Cousland charging straight downhill at it. He had discarded his dagger at some point, and now gripped only his longsword one handed. He reached the dragon just as Kiera’s blizzard began to subside, and used the dragon’s momentary stillness to grab one of the spines on its head and swing himself upwards onto its neck. He righted himself on the dragon’s neck and locked his ankles just below its jawbone, securing himself over top of the dragon’s head.  The dragon roared and reared back, trying to fling Erik off, but his grip seemed to hold, and Kiera took advantage of its distraction to send a cone of cold barreling into its side. The force of it pushed the dragon several feet, its claws skittering on the sudden layer of ice coating the dirt around it.

                Erik seized the moment that the dragon tried to regain its balance to grip his longsword two handed and, grunting with effort, drive it deep into the dragon’s skull through its eye. It screeched horribly, and thrashed hard enough that the trees around it shook with it, but Erik managed to keep both his grip on the sword and on the dragon’s neck. He reversed his grip on the sword and pulled it out one-handed, and withdrew a flask from his belt with the other. He drove the flask into the dragon’s empty bleeding eye socket, his hand disappearing up to the elbow, and before the dragon had a chance to recover, he pulled his hand out, regained his grip on the sword and then drove it straight back into the wound. Nami couldn’t hear the glass break at this distance, but the effects were obvious and immediate.

                The resulting high pitched keen left their ears ringing, but the dragon’s thrashes were clearly its death throes. Even as Erik savagely worked his sword back and forth in the dragon’s skull, the tremor in its limbs was becoming full on shaking, and they began to fail altogether. The injured foreleg went first, collapsing under the tremendous weight of the dragon’s torso, and its chin hit the ground as the leg gave out. Erik flung himself off the dragon’s skull as it hit the ground, tucking and rolling to get clear of the area abandoning his sword hilt-deep in the dragon’s eye. The dragon’s neck recoiled with the loss of weight, sending is smashing into the trunk of a nearby tree. It roared again, but weaker this time, and tried to regain its footing, and collapsed again. As they watched, it thrashed weakly, ineffectually against the trees, legs still skittering on the ice around it, until they simply could not hold the beast’s weight and gave out one by one. With a horrible shudder and one last, defiant, gout of fire, the dragon’s head collapsed and was still.

                There was a moment that everyone was simply still in the sudden quiet, breathing heavily as sunlight filtered down through the trees and glinted off of the ice and dragon blood in the newly made clearing.

                Adenine staggered forwards, clutching at a sluggishly bleeding rent in the side of her armour that must have been the result of the dragon’s claws.

                “Everybody alright?” She called “Anybody unconscious?”

                Nami did a brief scan of the area. She was largely alright, despite her still healing broken collarbone which she made a note to have Wynne heal properly back at camp. Kiera seemed alright, flushed from the exertion and breathing heavily but nonetheless grinning wildly, proudly displaying the gap between her teeth. The archers seemed unharmed, but then neither Maherial nor Aeducan got anywhere close to the fight anyway. Adenine, Erik and Farra were the ones who got up close and personal with the dragon, near enough to pit their redsteel blades against dragonhide.

                “I’m good” called Cousland, emerging from the bushes “Broken rib or two, I think, but nothing immediate.”

                “I’m sore and covered in blood, but I only turned my wrist I think” Farra chimed in, coming down the hill behind them. “No blood or guts here”

                Adenine sat down tiredly. “Great. I’m first in line for healing then. Maker, someone stop me the next time we head out without someone else to act as a shield for you lot.”

                Nami hurried to her side, and began feeling the tears in her armour, trying to get a sense of what she was dealing with. Adenine let out an appreciative groan as Nami started to work magic into the wounds in her side. The flesh had already begun to knit back together from a healing potion she had taken in the battle, but Nami pulled the torn skin back together and sealed it permanently, pulling muscle and bone back into place under the skin. The rest of the group convened around them, taking seats on the ground to clean weapons and wounds alike. Mahariel at least had the grace to look properly abashed about the situation. Farra was leaning heavily on Aeducan as they made their way to the bottom of the hill, but they both seemed in relatively good spirits; merely exausted.

                “What in the maker’s name” Farra asked Cousland as she sat down next to him “Was in that damned bottle? That dragon thrashed like you’d stuck a blighted bee up its skirt”

                Erik rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly “It uh- It was the last of the good dwarven acid”

                Farra looked at him incredulously “The _good_ dwarven acid? The stuff that it only takes two or three drops to get through solid iron lock plates?” Nami remembered that. It had been several sovereigns for a single rounded bottle, and had so far lasted them several months. Erik kept it packed in a protective layer of straw on an individual pouch on his belt.

                “Yes?” he replied

                Farra let out a guffaw, and clapped him on the back. “Well that would just about do it. I don’t think I want to meet the creature that could survive half a flask of the good shit straight through the eye socket.”

                “I need a new sword now though” Erik said “I tried to retrieve my old one and-“ He dropped the hilt of a sword in front of them, the blade melted into a twisted bulbous mass, only one third of its original length. They stared at it for a moment in mute silence.

                “Well, all told, half a flask of acid and a sword isn’t a bad price for killing a dragon, yeah?” Tabris said, and then looked down at her armour, which bore three large dragon-claw inflicted gashes “Plus one breastplate, I guess. It does warrant asking, though, why we were out here to kill your girlfriend’s mom in the first place, Ghilharel Mahariel, and don’t think you can weasel your way out of this one.”

                Ghilharel shrank under her stare, but managed to still sound both defensive and offended when he replied “She was going to kill Morrigan. Some blood magic thing to keep her young. Morrigan found the whole ritual in her grimoire”

                Tabris blinked at him “And _why_ ” she started “didn’t you think that was important enough to share with the rest of us then? We would have come. We would have been better prepared. Brought the good gear. A Templar, even, if we knew we were out here to kill an immortal apostate hedge witch.”

                “Speaking of terrifying apostate hedge witches” Keira piped in “Does Morrigan know this was your plan? I mean, I know her and her mom weren’t _friends_ exactly, but are you going to be in the doghouse over this? Did you sneak off into the wilds to kill your girl's mom?”

                “Nono” Ghilharel said “She asked me to do it.”

                They stared at him blankly for a moment.

                “I cannot believe” Erik said “That that is a sentence that makes sense in my life right now.”

                “Well _next time_ ” Adenine said, pointing around at the lot of them “one of you needs someone dead, you let me know, yeah? We’ll work something out. Make a plan. The less of this running in half-cocked and cocky bullshit the better.”

                There was something reassuring, Nami thought, as the other wardens mumbled their agreement, about that sentiment. That no matter how bad things got, or how unexpected the fights they got into were, that the other wardens would have her back. That even if she couldn’t plan for the event before, or know everything she wanted to about it before heading in, she had a dozen hardscrabble experienced warriors at her back, and that every one of them was willing to fight a dragon for any of the others at the drop of a hat, even if they would have preferred to know about the dragon first.

**5.**

                The morning they were going to investigate ‘unrest’ (Queen Anora’s words, not hers) in Denerim’s alienage, Adenine Tabris let herself into the room Nami and Kiera were sharing before the sun had even risen.

                “Nami” She said.

                “Nnnnggggghhhhhh” Keira said from beside her. Nami agreed mutely.

                “Nami, there’s something I need to tell you. Sorry. But I do. Before we head out today.”

                Kiera moaned again, and pulled her pillow over her head “The first time we’ve got to sleep in a bed for months and you’re pulling my girl from it before dawn.” She groused “You are a cruel, cruel woman, Adenine Tabris.”

                “Yeah, well” Nami could hear the wry smile in her voice even if she couldn’t yet bring herself to open her eyes to see it “The blight won’t stop itself, and I need another elf to accompany me to the alienage”

                Kiera’s muffled ‘the blight can _stuff it_ ’ was all but swallowed by her pillow as Nami swung herself up to a sitting position. She glared blearily at Adenine.

                “Good morning to you too.”

                Nami grunted in response, and reluctantly pulled herself from the warmth of the bedsheets and began hunting for her clothes.

                “Wear something with a hood” Adenine advised “We’re gonna be out in the wider city today, before the alienage. If you keep your head down, it’ll be better. Especially for you. You’re tall enough to pass for human at a glance.”

                That much was true, Nami thought. She was a good half-head taller than Adenine, and a couple of fingers taller than both Zevran and Ghilharel. She was even a little bit taller than Kiera, who although she was by far the shortest human in the group was still taller than the rest of the elves. Nami’s face though, was distinctly elven; nose too straight, eyes too wide and ears too pointed to be anything else, but in a deep hood she might just pass for human. She pulled her robes on over her head, and her boots onto her feet before retrieving Kiera’s cloak from its hook on the door. She threw it over her shoulders and pulled the hood up, sinking into its folds.

                “How do I look?” She asked the other two.                                       

                Kiera pulled her head out from her nest of pillows and turned her face in Nami’s direction, face almost entirely obscured by her think red curls “Like you’re headed out the door when you should be coming back to _bed_.”

                Adenine ignored Kiera’s comment as she looked Nami up and down before nodding “You could pass” She said eventually. “C’mon. We wanna be out the door before the night guard rotates off shift.”

                “Hey” Called Kiera from the bed. Nami turned around to see her sitting up, still bleary and tangled in the sheets, but making the effort at least. “Be safe out there without me. Hate seeing you going off out there alone.”

                Nami felt herself smile, and without consciously making the decision, she was taking the few steps across the bedroom she needed to drop a kiss onto Kiera’s forehead. She made a small contented noise, and tipped her head back to catch Nami’s mouth with her own, smiling into the kiss.

                Adenine coughed pointedly from the doorway. Kiera sighed. “Alright fine. Get outta here, you.”

                “I’ll bring her back in one piece” Adenine promised, and shut the door on Kiera’s reply of ‘you damn well _better_.’

                “Right,” Nami said, falling into step behind Adenine as they would their way through the back hallways of the Arl’s estate. “What did you need to tell me?”

                Adenine glanced at her briefly as they walked. “I wish I didn’t have to tell you this. I really do. But. Not fair to you not to. You need to know this.”

                She sighed, and ran one hand through her choppy hair, clean, for once. “Look, everyone in Denerim hates you. Not you, specifically, but that doesn’t actually matter. We’re elves, yeah, and shem see that before they see anything else. Shops are going to have nothing to sell us. Bar keeps are going to find something to do on the other end of the room to where we sit down. We’re probably going to have the guards called on us, for nothing more than walking around having pointed ears. I need you to be ready for that.”

                Nami nodded. “Alright.”

                "You have to keep you eyes down, always. Don't make eyecontact with any shems. Stay out of their way. They're not gonna move outta their way for you. You gotta move out of the way of them. If you bump on of em, you mummble 'sorry messre' and you  _move on_. We're not trying to start fights today. Well. We're not trying to start fights  _yet._ _"_ She spat out her instructions rapidfire, as drawing them out would cause her pain.

                “If we get stopped by the watch, _when_ we do, do you know how to act?”

                Nami nodded. “I think so. I’m going to let you do the talking, anyway.”

                Adenine stared at her consideringly, and then turned to face her and stepped slightly too close to Nami in the hallway. “Show me.”

                “What?”

                “Show me. I’m a guard, I’ve just stopped you, how do you act?” She took another step into Nami’s personal space, crowding her in against the wall and crossing her arms across her chest. If she was tall enough to loom, she would be doing so.

                Nami turned to face her, and changed her body posture as she did so. She dropped her shoulders, neither hunched up around her ears nor forwards getting ready to fight. She pulled her hands in front of her, gripping the strap of her bag loosely, making no sudden motions that could be interpreted as drawing a weapon or casting but keeping her hands in plain view. She didn’t tense to run or to fight, and didn’t back away from or move into Adenine’s presence. Nami looked at her and tried to inject her voice with the right mix of confusion and nonchalance as she said “Is there something wrong ser?”

                Adenine blinked at her, disoriented. “Yeah, that’s it.” She stepped back, still staring at Nami “Fuck, that’s it exactly. You’re good to go, Nami.”

                They fell into step again beside one another in the hallway, becoming their regular selves again. There was quiet for a moment, Adenine clearly chewing on something, before she opened her mouth again.

                “I know I’m not going to like the answer” she said “But I need to know where in the void did you learn to do that. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d lived in the alienage your whole life. No one learns that shit accidently.”

                “Templars” Nami replied. Adinine swore softly, and then met her gaze seriously.

                “Neither of you are going back to the circle, you hear me? Not ever. I’ll fight the grand cleric if I have to. Flames, I’ll fight the blighted _divine_ if I have to. Neither of you are going back to that fucking place. No one gets to take one of my wardens back to a place like that.”

                Nami smiled at her. “Thank you.”

                The circle had always taught, she remembered, that Templars would always watch over mages. That they would be ever vigilant for any sign that they had done anything wrong. That mages weren’t people so much as time bombs, requiring constant supervision. What the circle never taught her, Nami thought, glancing at the hard lines of Adenine’s face, at the still elvish ridge of her twice-broken nose, was that Templars were not the only people who held that power, and mages were not the only ones people thought needed surveiling.

                No one had ever told her that there would be Templars outside the circle, but no one had ever told her that there would be people willing to fight tooth and nail to keep them away from her, either.

**+1**

                Nami barely got out of the way in time for Adinine Tabris' form to collide with the wall beside her. The grunt she let out on impact was all but swallowed by the Archdemon’s roar. Nami just barely managed to get out of the way in order to avoid the collision and continue her spellcasting, sending off a massive cloud of malicious energy to envelop the blighted old god before turning her head to address Adenine behind her.

                “Are you all right?” She yelled

                “Been Better.” She replied, clutching her shield arm gingerly “How’re we doing?”

                Nami turned back to regard the roof of fort Drakon. Pieces of masonry littered the battlements, and once flat and stable walkways were pierced with holes strait to the ground floor. The archdemon itself was ensconced on a small island of tower, roaring furiously as Alistair and Erik Cousland wove between its legs, trying to find weak points to stab. Adinene had just been with them, before a rouge swipe of the thing’s tale had knocked her fifty feet across the roof. The two dwarfs and Ghilharel had positioned themselves on the intact battlements, and were using the ballista, of all things, to pelt the arch demon with bolts Farra was poisoning as they went. Kiera alone among the wardens was not on the roof, but only because she had some moments previously launched herself off the battlements as a swarm of insects to retrieve the contingent of circle mages to assist them.

                “I think we’re wearing it down!”

                “How are you for mana? My shield arm’s fucked five different ways, and I need to get back in there.”

                Nami’s blood was humming with lyrium, but she pushed her hands inbetween the armour plates covering Adenine’s left arm and pulsed healing magic into the wrenched joints and broken bones. If Nami survived this, she thought, pulling all of Adenine's delicate wristbones into place, she was going to have the mother of all lyrium hangovers in the morning. Adenine nodded her thanks at her, determinedly readjusted the straps of her shield around the healing bones, and pushed off the wall to rejoin the others in melee against a creature of legend. She had more reason than most of them to want to be in the thick of it, Nami thought grimly. Of the wardens likely to strike the final blow, the odds were split fairly evenly between her and Alistair, with Erik coming in a respectable third. Adenine, if she didn’t die herself, would lose either the man she was in love with or a very dear friend. Not, Nami reminded herself, that a lucky shot from the ballista couldn’t kill the damn thing either.

                She spared herself a moment of stupid, selfish gratitude that neither she nor Keira had specialized as true battle mages; Nami herself had specialized mostly in entropy and spirit magic, and while Kiera’s newfound ability to turn herself into all manner of creatures was usually enough to turn the tide of a battle, there was little enough even a bear could do against a dragon. Kiera’s elemental magic, while fearsome, didn’t distinguish closely enough between friend and foe for her to use safely with the trio of other wardens ducking and weaving between the creature’s limbs, not when they were counting on one of them to deal the mortal blow.

                Adenine, as if to make Nami’s point for her, launched herself across a gap in the roof and landed sword first in one of the dragon’s clawed feet. The archdemon, for its part, roared and tried its best to fling Adenine right back across the gap.

                Ghilharel took its momentary distraction to poke his head over the battlements and aim a single arrow very carefully, landing it in a small gap in the dragon’s scales just underneath the main joint of the wing. The dragon turned from its focus from the fighters by its feet, knocking two of them over with a swipe of its wing, and bathed the archer’s parapet in unholy purple fire. Ghilharel, Farra and the dwarven prince launched themselves from the tower, barely avoiding being cooked alive. Nami hurried to meet them at the base of what had just recently been home to a siege weapon.

                “Who needs healing?”

                Farra stood up with difficulty, holding on to Aeducan’s shoulder as Ghilharel shot arrows into the fray on one side. “My ankle is bent the wrong way, I’m gonna go ahead and say it’s busted.” Nami swore as she bent down to examine it, and not for the first time in the evening wished Wynne was here at the top of the tower with them. She knelt and knit the bones back together, using magic to pull the damaged tendons back into place while the two dwarves were arguing about what to do next. Farra, out of poisons and nimble, was intending to head into the fray herself, and was trying to dissuade Aeducan from following her onto the front lines.  

                “You have a kingdom to run when this is all over” Farra told him as she drew her daggers “Or advise, whatever. If you die, it’s that arse-licker Harrowmont we left in charge, and he treats us dusters worse than shit. If you die trying to protect me out of some highborn honour, I’m going to bring you back to life and kill you myself. Besides, I'm counting on you to look after our nephew.” She readied herself on the edge of one of the cracks in the masonry, before turning back and yelling over one shoulder “Get to the other Balista, you fucking tit! Ghilharel, Nami, cover for me!”

                And with that, she launched herself across a chasm in the stone, ducking and rolling on the other sideand ducking cover-to-cover as Nami and Ghilharel attempted to distract her target with flashy bolts of magic and obvious arrows. She joined the three at the demon’s feet with a roar, plunging both daggers into one of the archdemon’s hindlegs and raking them down the crystalline muscle tissue.

                Nami turned back to Aeducan and pointed at the single standing seige tower with her staff

                “Go!” she yelled at him “We’ll cover you, but you have to get up there NOW!”

                He nodded at her, and then he was tearing off across the roof too, and Nami returned to casting glyphs of paralysis and hexes on the demon. She was so focused on the battle she didn’t even notice Kiera’s return, not so much as stuttering in her casting as a swarm of insects crested the roof beside her, and then exploded back into Kiera’s usual human shape. She tucked herself against the wall Nami and Ghilharel were shooting from opposite sides of, and called out to the both of them

                “How’re we looking?”

                “Where are the rest of the mages?” Ghilharel yelled over his shoulder

                “Stairs are down all over the fort!” She shouted back “No way up anymore unless you have wings!”

                Ghilharel let out a vitriolic stream of elvish as he pulled back for a moment to stare at Kiera.

                “No reinforcements at all? No archers? No ground support?”

                “Zilch. We’re on our own up here.”

                The archdemon took that as its cue to let out an unholy roar and rear back on its hind legs, sending the wardens at its feet scrambling for cover. Even from halfway across the roof the cry was nearly deafening, and Nami could see the horrible breadth of the thing’s wings as it flapped, sending dust and debris alike careening across the roof. Nami turned to look at her companions behind the ruined tower. Ghilharel looked ashen under his vallaslin (for Ghilan’nain, he had once told her, the halla mother) and was gripping his bow so tightly his knuckles were white. His other hand was dripping blood slightly, his long stable bow calluses had evidently been unable to hold up to four consecutive hours of use. Kiera, however, was turning to look at her with a very strange look on her face.

                “Do you have any Lyrium left?”

                Nami wordlessly pulled her last two vials from her pouch, handing them over as she sent a tiny wave of healing towards Ghilharel's fingers and hoped it took. Kiera downed the first in one go, wincing at the burn, and tucked the other down the front of her robes.

                “Listen, I’ve just had an idea. If it doesn’t work- If it _does_ work-“ She stopped, swore softly, and pulled Nami in for a bruising kiss. “Stay safe” she said, and then she was off again, a swarm of insects again headed - Nami swore- directly for the archdemon itself.

                “What in Andreste’s name is she _thinking_?”

                Ghilharel shrugged beside her, sucking his bleeding fingers as he switched out an empty quiver of arrows for one of the full ones he had propped against the wall. His last one, she noted. They were all on their last legs, and all she could do was pray that the archdemon was in a similar position. It was limping, she saw, and dragging one wing in the dust beside it, which Erik was doing his level best to use to climb onto the damn thing’s back. A wounded dragon was still a dangerous one though, and this one was ancient, intelligent and blighted. Its neck bent and swooped with incredible speed, scooping Erik up its jaws, shaking him and then flinging him clear across the roof. He landed on the other side of the creature from Nami, and as he thumped heavily in the dirt, the demon crowed in triumph, letting loose a roar that shook the heavens. And then suddenly, Kiera was there.

                Even from this distance, Nami could see the light catching in Kiera’s bright red braid as she transformed back from the swarm of insects to a diminutive human _inside the creature's mouth_ , kneeling on its tongue and bracing her staff against the inside of the thing’s bottom teeth.

                Nami stared dumbly for a moment, and then began sprinting across the battlefield, heedless of Ghilharel’s shouts behind her. She had not even made it across the first gap as Kiera started casting, calling a bolt of lightning that entered through the demon’s skull and exited with a clap of thunder _through its throat_. Forked lightning, Nami realized with despair. She was calling _forked lightning_ down on a creature she was _inside of_. The dragon shrieked, and arched with pain, but Kiera was already calling the next bolt, and the next, and the next. The battlefield was illuminated almost as bright as daylight as Keira drew bolt after bolt out of the heavens, and channeled them through her staff via the creature’s skull. The dragon arched in pain, and Nami could see the electricity arching bone to bone across its wings, sparking across the spines that ridged its back. The nearly non-stop roars of thunder overpowered anything else that Nami could hear, but she was pretty sure at least two people were screaming. She might well have been one of them.

                It was obvious when it ended. Old gods, even old gods long dormant and tainted with the blight, did not go quietly. A massive pillar of light, the same shade of vivid, eye watering, otherworldly pink that had featured so vividly in their collective nightmares for the past year enveloped the entire form of the dragon. The light pulsed horribly, once, twice, threetimes and then exploded outwards in a pulse of sickening ancient magic Nami knew she would remember for the rest of her days. It was earily silent when the dragon fell. After being barraged with thunder, screams and roars for hours, the sounds of the ancient being collapsing on the crumbling fort roof felt quiet. Its long neck rolled grotesquely, coiling across the battlefield like a river, before its head came to rest with a mighty thump amidst the masonry pulled from its moorings during the battle.

                She was closer than she imagined she would be, and with two quick jumps she was on the same chunk of roof as the skull that had become a coffin.

                Even in death it was looked malicious, all glittering pointed teeth and bone ridges wherever she looked. Nami dug her hands right into the wedges between those teeth and heaved, prying open jaws nearly twice her size. And inside, oh inside lay Kiera. Her staff (bought from a shop in the city not three days prior) was broken nearly in half jammed against the roof of the dragon’s mouth. Nami used it simply to hold the thing’s teeth apart as she dug her arms under Kiera’s armpits and hauled her out of the archdemon’s jaws. She laid her body out gently on the ground, her head in Nami's lap, and smoothed the hair from her face. Blood trickled gently out of one of her ears.

                She was distantly aware that the others were gathering around her. Farra sat down beside her, daggers lost sometime over the course of the battle, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Adenine sat down on a chunk of stone and pulled her helmet off, running a hand through her blood and sweat-slick hair, before hanging her head as Erik and Alistair sat down to either side of her. Aeducan simply stood nervously at the archdemon’s skull, as if it might come alive again. None of them, Nami was thankful, tried to say anything. She was fairly sure she was crying. Ghilharel took a seat on Kiera’s other side, and gently took one of her hands in his own. It was woven, fingers to elbows, with electricity burns. Splashback, from casting the same spell too quickly, too often. Ghilharel held it in both of his, ragged bow fingers leaving bloody smears across Kiera’s wrist.

                “Nami” Ghilharel’s voice was strangely gently in the silence. Nami knew her own was thick with tears as she replied

                “Shut up, Ghilharel.”

                “Nami”

                “Shut _UP_ , Ghilharel"

                “Nami, she _has a pulse_ ”

                As if on cue, Kiera groaned softly in her lap, and turned her head, before cracking her eyes. The others scrambled down to get closer to her, to this miraculous rebirth. Nami couldn’t breathe. Kiera’s smile crept slowly over her face, gap-toothed and crooked in a way Nami never thought she’d see again.

                “Hey” Kiera croaked. Nami wasn’t sure if she laughed or sobbed, but she fumbled and grabbed Kiera’s other hand as she held it up weakly.

                “Hey yourself.” Nami said. Kiera’s brow crinkled as she looked at the circle of wardens surrounding her. Her eyes traced each of them in turn, before returning to meet Nami’s gaze in confusion.

                “Who…?”

                “None of us” came Adenine’s slightly disbelieving voice. “None of us. We’re all alive. We’re all here.”

                Kiera frowned faintly. “How?” she asked.

                “I don’t care” Nami said, and bent down to press a kiss to Kiera’s forehead.

                “I don’t care.” She said again. And she didn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you know how many times I changed Kiera's first name? Like, five times. Minimum. Also, trying to figure out anything near accurate conversion rates for fantasy money is a task and a half.
> 
> For those of you wondering (although some of you might have already guessed), the way all the wardens survived the final battle was Ghilharel, the little shit, snuck off and did the dark ritual with Morrigan without telling anyone else about it. That's why he checked Keira for a pulse at the end; her reckless spellcasting may have knocked her out cold, but he knew that killing the archdemon in and of itself wasn't necessarily deadly. 
> 
> The next instalment of this 'verse is going to be a Farra Brosca character study, probably. She kinda grabbed my eye while I was writing her in this one. Keep an eye out for that about two weeks from now. I might even split it into 6 chapters, instead of these 10 thousand word monstrosities.


End file.
